


Baby, Seasons Change (and People Too)

by cablesscutie



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: M/M, Making Up, Past Kent Parson/Jack Zimmermann, battle of the exes (but not really), future PB&J
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-31
Updated: 2016-12-31
Packaged: 2018-09-13 14:18:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9127432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cablesscutie/pseuds/cablesscutie
Summary: When Eric Bittle met Kent Parson, he had a lot of growing up to do.  Years later and forced under the same roof in their mutual quest to make Jack happy, they're finally forced to work things out.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Justonebigbee (sunlight)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunlight/gifts).



> Sw'awesome Santa gift for Bittyybee! Happy Holidays!

Bitty was going to kill Jack. And Bob. And Wayne fucking Gretzky too.

Because _somehow_ all of them being _idiots_ led to this:

Bitty was on his way to pick up Kent Parson from the airport. 

Originally, when Kent’s visit had been planned, Bitty hadn’t been very involved. It was supposed to be about Jack and Kent. Hanging out, getting in some off-season training, doing their best-friends-again thing while Bitty worked away at his bakery as usual and only had to speak to Kent to make polite chit-chat over dinner and say goodnight, until their house guest got back on his flight to Vegas a week later. And he’d had no problem with that plan. He was happy for Jack that he’d gotten back to a good place with his old friend, and he was fully supportive of him planning this visit. Bitty just had never warmed to Kent.

It was probably his protective instincts taking over, because Kent had been nothing but nice to Bitty himself. They followed each other on Twitter and Instagram (well, Bitty followed Kit Purrson’s Instagram) and when they overlapped at Zimmermann family holidays, Kent always complimented the pie and asked how he was doing with what seemed to be genuine interest. It probably even was genuine since, from Kent’s point of view, there was no real reason for them to have beef with each other. But still, Bitty felt himself holding back; waiting for the day that Jack and Kent fell out again and not wanting to be too emotionally invested to deal with the fallout. And so Bitty proceeded with his life as though he and Kent would never have to be more than passing acquaintances. Which would’ve been true, except…

Bob injured his hip. Playing 1 on 1 with “Uncle Wayne” and falling over while trying to make a trick shot. It wasn’t anything serious, but he wasn’t supposed to be very mobile for a couple weeks, and Alicia was in Paris for her annual reunion trip with friends from her modeling days. So Jack, being who he was, got more concerned than he reasonably needed to seeing as his father was, in fact, long retired, and volunteered himself to fly up to Montreal immediately and take care of Bob until Alicia got home in a few days. And what was Bitty supposed to do when Jack explained the situation, bangs disheveled from fussing nervously with his hair, and asked,

“You can entertain Kent for a few days, right? Just at night? He can hang out with some of the Falcs while you’re at work but...I just really feel like I need to go take care of Papa.”

He couldn’t say no. He’d said,

“Of course, baby. Don’t worry about us, you just go be with your dad. You’re such a good son.” And he’d kissed Jack on the forehead as he stood up to go bake a pie to cheer Bob up.

 **_** X **_**

So, Bitty was idling in short term parking, texting Kent while he tried not to stress himself out too much about their impending five day confinement.

**EB: I’m by pole F, blue car.**

**KP:Sweet just left baggage claim see you soon**

Bitty was still doing deep breathing with his head pressed back against the headrest when a knock on the passenger window made him jump so hard his seatbelt snapped hard against his chest.

“Good Lord!” Bitty exclaimed, reaching up to press his hand against his racing heart and the possible bruise across his sternum. He turned to the sound of the noise to find Kent staring back at him, eyes wide. Bitty sighed and unlocked the doors. Kent opened the back seat door and tossed his duffle bag in before buckling himself into the passenger seat, at least having the decency to look sheepish.

“Um, sorry ‘bout that,” he said, rubbing at the back of his neck.

“It’s fine, I was just zoned out,” Bitty told him before turning Spotify back on in the car and pulling out of the space, hoping that Kent wouldn’t try to talk over the music. 

Those hopes were in vain, because apparently Kent Parson cannot withstand a single minute of silence and they didn’t even make it to the road before he asked,

“So um. How’s Bob doing?” Bitty didn’t take his eyes off the road as he said,

“A little stir-crazy, but mostly fine.”

“That’s good, that’s good.” He looked out the window, worrying his bottom lip for a moment before he let out a sort of forced laugh and said, “So which one of them do you think is gonna get out of this alive?”

“Pardon?”

“Oh just - you know...Jack and his dad stuck together for, what, like three more days? And Jack’s supposed to be policing Bob about resting? Somebody’s getting an ice skate to the throat, I can feel it.” Bitty snorted a little in spite of himself.

“I mean...they’re better now…”

“Not that much.”

“They’ll be fine.”

“Well yeah, of course. I was just - nevermind.” Another several blocks passed, and Bitty could see the turn for their neighborhood up ahead. If he could just make it home, Kent would go unpack and he could make dinner in peace. “So how’s the bakery?” Fuck.

“It’s doing well.”

“Yeah?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing! Just - I just wanted to know if anything’s new, okay? Jeez.”

“Oh. Um, well a couple things I put on my vlog are ready to go. But they’re more for the fall menu. So…”

“Right.”

“Yeah.”

“That...sounds nice.”

“Fall’s a good season for baking.”

“Yeah, yeah. Pumpkin spice and all that jazz.”

“Mmhm.” Kent gave up on talking from there on, and just lets Bitty drive them the rest of the way home in peace.

When they pulled into the driveway, Bitty briefly contemplated leaving Kent to take his own bag before reminding himself that Jack asked him to do this and settling for tossing the duffel strap over his shoulder and heading up the front walk. Kent hadn’t been over since they bought the house, so when they got inside, Bitty said,

“I’ll give you the quick tour so you can go get yourself settled,” and pointed out the kitchen and livingroom, diningroom. He gestured for Kent to follow him upstairs. “The bedroom way down the end of the hall is me and Jack’s, so if you need anything in the middle of the night, that’s where I’ll be. And this bedroom down here at the other end is the guest room, and there’s a bathroom here on the left. The other door is just kind of a craft room. Jack’s photography and some scrapbooking nonsense. And there’s a little weight room down in the basement if you want to use it.”

“Okay, cool. Thanks. It’s - um. A beautiful home. It looks...ya know. Happy.”

“We are.” Bitty turned and went downstairs to start preheating the oven and tried not to feel like he was rubbing Kent’s face in his relationship. 

Kent wanted to cry a little bit. It wasn’t that he was jealous of Bitty, because he really wasn’t. He still loved Zimms, probably always would in some part of him, but Kent loved Jack enough to appreciate that Bitty made him happy in the way he’s always deserved. And he genuinely looked forward to the day that they brought home a bouncing little baby and he got to be Uncle Kenny. But for all that happiness...Kent had been a groomsman at their goddamn wedding, but somehow he still couldn’t get Bitty to like him. And that stung.

He took his time unpacking. Usually, he’d just live out of his suitcase, but he wanted to make himself feel at home here, in this cute little house in Rhode Island. It brought him some measure of peace to fold his clothes into one of the dresser drawers and know that his shirts still fit in Zimm’s life at least. The room itself was very homey, the whole thing decorated in soft yellows and blues, an armchair tucked in the corner next to the window and a quilt draped at the end of the bed that looked homemade. The comforter on the bed was so thick and cushy, when he flopped back onto it, he was tempted to just stay there until Jack got back from Montreal. Or maybe he should’ve changed his flight and gone to hang out with Jack and Bob. It certainly seemed like Bitty would’ve preferred to be alone.

A loud gurgle from Kent’s stomach put an end to his relaxing shortly after. He let out a groan, but forced himself upright and made his way downstairs in socked feet to see if dinner was ready. He found Bitty stirring a pot of rice on the stovetop, a pan of chicken cooling on the counter beside him.

“Hey.” Bitty startled a little at the sound of Kent’s voice, but quickly rearranged his face into a polite smile.

“Hello. Get settled in alright?”

“Yeah, yeah. Um. That bed’s really comfy.” Bitty laughed a little and put the lid back on the rice, taking the pot off the burner and setting it aside as well.

“I’ve fallen asleep on that a few times myself. Seems every time I have to go in and set up the guest room, Jack comes home and has to pry me off the thing.”

“If my stomach wasn’t eating itself, I’d probably have never left.” He shuffled his feet. “Um, so...Can I help with anything?”

“Oh! No, you don’t have to do anything, you’re a guest.”

“I don’t mind.” Bitty bit at his lip, studying Kent for a moment before deciding that he really meant it and telling him,

“Well, if you want, you could set the table? Plates are up there and silverware is right below.”

“On it.”

“Thank you.” Bitty put potholders down on the kitchen table and moved the chicken and rice onto the table. While Kent arranged their place settings, he retrieved the salad from the fridge and the bottle of vinaigrette. They sat down across from each other and loaded up their plates. Bitty drizzled some vinaigrette on his salad and offered the bottle to Kent who took it, but put it down next to the salad bowl again.

“Do you have any ranch?” Bitty raised an eyebrow.

“Jack lives here. What do you think?”

“Damn.”

“The vinaigrette is good,” he insisted. “I made it myself.” Bitty punctuated this statement by taking a neat bite, and all of a sudden, Kent was back to feeling bitter and stupid. He always looked like a frustrated turtle when he tried to eat salad, the chunks of lettuce always too big, having to open his mouth absurdly wide, and still getting dressing all down his chin in the process. He couldn’t even use a grown-up dressing, smothering the veggies until they tasted like cool ranch doritos, and yet here was Bitty, five years his junior and so much more elegant, more adult, than Kent thinks he’ll ever manage. It was a stupid thing to be jealous of - of all the things about Bitty’s life that Kent could covet. Still, he picked up the bottle and poured some vinaigrette onto his salad and gritting his teeth against the bitter tang of it.

Dinner, though simple, was delicious. Bitty smiled into his apple juice when Kent grunted out a compliment around his mouthful of food. It was a little disgusting, but Bitty had been surrounded by hockey bros long enough to know not to expect fantastic table manners and to just take the praise regardless of delivery. Afterwards, Kent offered to take care of the dishes, and Bitty accepted his help again while he plated two slices of the pie he’d left warming in the oven. It was blueberry, Kent’s favorite, because Bitty always makes people’s favorite when they come to visit. The top was done in a braided lattice so beautiful Kent felt wrong wanting to eat it, but of course he did, and of course it was flaky and buttery and perfectly sugared.

As soon as their dessert plates were in the dishwasher, Bitty said goodnight and told Kent he’d probably be gone by the time Kent woke up but to help himself to anything for breakfast. Then, left alone in the livingroom, Kent took out his phone and texted Jack.

 **KP: Hey how’s ur dad?** Jack, who seemed to always have his phone on him these days, answered right away.

**JZ: Pretty sure he hates me now but it’s for his own good.**

**KP: Yeah, he’d be even worse if he had to do PT.**

**KP: and speaking of hatred, i don’t think bits likes me.**

**JZ: he doesn’t hate you**

**KP: says you**

**JZ: says him. He told me it was cool to invite you. And he was fine entertaining you while i’m up here.**

**KP: nombreux un: he’s cool with me being here because it means he can keep an eye on me. Nombreux deux: he agreed to babysit me because he doesn’t want you to worry. He does not want to be my friend.**

**JZ: I promise he’s not jealous.**

**KP: Well I KNOW that.**

**KP: He’s the one you married.**

**JZ: Kent.**

**KP: Shit.**

**KP: That’s not what I meant. I just mean I don’t understand what his problem is with me.**

**JZ: I don’t know what to tell you. He’s never said anything but nice things about you.**

**KP: Alright, maybe it’s nothing. I should go to bed. Say hi to Bob for me. Night.**

**JZ: Goodnight.**

**_** X **_**

Bitty Skyped Jack from bed to say goodnight, but when Jack answered the call his expression looked odd around the eyes.

“What’s wrong, baby?” Jack grimaced a little, and Bitty’s chest tightened. “Jack? Is everything okay up there?”

“Oh, yeah. No, Bits, dad’s fine. I just. Um, Kent texted me earlier because…” Jack’s mouth twisted up like he didn’t want to finish the sentence, but Bitty nodded encouragingly. “Euh, because he’s under the impression that you don’t like him.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, and I told him that was ridiculous, but -” Bitty’s guilt must’ve shown on his face, and he bit back a curse as he watched Jack put it together. “Oh. You, euh - You really don’t like Kent?”

“It’s not that I don’t like him. I just...have a hard time trusting him.”

“Bits…”

“I know I shouldn’t hold the past against him, I know he’s a good person, but...I worry.”

“He really wants to be friends with you. You should give him a chance.”

“Jack, honey…”

“Please?” Bitty caved. He’d known he was going to. Jack asked so little of him, he was helpless against those pleading droopy eyes.

“Alright. I’ll try. I promise.”

“Thank you, that means a lot to me.” Bitty blew a kiss at the camera, and smiled at the flush of pink that tinted Jack’s cheeks.

“Anything for you, sweetheart.”

“I love you.”

“I love you.”

_X_

By the time Kent woke up the next morning, Bitty had already left for the bakery, but he’d left hot coffee waiting in the pot and making the kitchen smell amazing, a post-it note on the handle telling Kent, “Have fun today! I’ll be home at six :D” He fixed himself a mug of coffee and a bowl of yogurt with some raspberries and a scoop of what looked like homemade granola - because of course it was. Usually, he ate breakfast on the couch with Kit, tossing her little bits of fruit or cheerios, but he ate at the kitchen table again that morning in case that wasn’t allowed. He felt bizarrely childlike, letting his feet dangle from the tall seat while he scrolled through Twitter. As he was reaching the bottom of the bowl, he came across a picture of a familiar face smiling and holding a tray of fresh cinnamon rolls. His mouth watered at the sight of them. He thought maybe he should stop by the bakery on his way to hang out with Snowy.

Kent took Bitty up on his offer to use the basement gym and hopped in the guest shower to rinse off, studiously not thinking about the fact that Jack and Bitty had probably fucked in it at some point, as well as on the weight bench downstairs, the bed he’d just slept in, and possibly the table he’d eaten at. Yeah, nope. He definitely did not think about any of that. After toweling off quickly and throwing on shorts and a t-shirt, he slipped on his flip-flops, headed out the door. He had to circle the block three times before he found a parking space close to the bakery. Luckily Bitty was behind the counter when he walked in.

“Oh! Hey, Kent. I wasn’t expecting to see you ‘till dinner.” Kent tried to disseminate if there was anything in Bitty’s voice to betray disappointment, but he seemed friendly.

“Yeah, no I wasn’t planning on it either, but I saw those cinnamon rolls you posted on Twitter and…” he shrugged. “It’s off season; I’m not dead. Plus Snowy will love me.”

“You’re going to Snowy’s? That’ll be fun.”

“Yeah, yeah. He’s a cool guy. We’re gonna play some videogames, maybe hit a bar later. Want me to text you where we end up and you can meet us after work?” Bitty grabbed a box off the stack on the counter and started taping it together while he talked. 

“Oh, I don’t know. I don’t want to get in the way of you guys having fun and picking up or whatever.”

“You wouldn’t be in the way,” Kent assured him. Bitty quickly filled the box with cinnamon rolls.

“Really, don’t worry about it. I have to Skype Jack before he goes to bed and I’ve gotta come back here early again anyway. You don’t get to visit much, you should see the boys while you can.” The box of pastry was finished with a few loops of string and slid across the counter to Kent. He reached for his wallet, but Bitty shook his head. “No, no. Your money’s no good here. Take these and go have fun.” Kent smiled a little cautiously as he took the box, but nodded.

“Thanks. Just text me if you change your mind about later.”

“I will,” Bitty promises, patting Kent’s hand on the counter.

Two hours later, in the middle of a round of Grand Theft Auto, Kent was still running the conversation over and over in his head. He wanted to just ask Snowy if Bitty was staying in because of him, but that’s not really the kind of friends they were. Snowy was a good guy, loyal, and he was a hell of a lot closer to Jack and Bitty than he was to Kent, so questioning wouldn’t go anywhere and would feel gossipy and weird besides. So instead he just mentioned,

“I invited Bits to come out with us later tonight.” 

“Yeah?” Snowy asked, not taking his eyes off the cop cars he was trying to outrun.

“Yeah. Sucks he’s gotta work tomorrow.”

“Eh, he and Jack don’t really go out unless it’s a big win,” Snowy shrugged. “The married guys usually only do the team meals. Apparently bar hopping is not as fun once you know who you’re fucking until you die. Go figure.”

“Well when you put it that way, it just sounds like a fucking depressing way to spend the night.” 

“Mmhm.” 

_X_

Kent and Snowy did not end up going out after videogames and pizza. After trying and failing to get some of the other young, single Falconers out on the town, they decided to cut their losses. Not like Kent really had anywhere to bring somebody if he did pick up. Bitty would hate his guts for real if he fucked a stranger in the cute little guest room that would probably be a nursery by the next time Kent came to stay. When he shut the front door behind himself, Bitty called out from further inside the house,

“You’re home early!”

“Yeah, didn’t end up going out after all.” He found Bitty curled up at one end of the couch, a bowl of spaghetti perched on his thigh, fork held above his mouth as he tried to get the dangling noodles into his mouth. “It seemed a little pathetic so we called it off.” Bitty chewed the pasta and swallowed.

“Not to judge, but the last time I got drunk on a Thursday was _definitely_ in college.”

“Probably time to act like an adult now that I’m, ya know, thirty.” Kent took a seat at the other end of the couch, pulling his knees up to his chest.

“You’ve got plenty of time to get it together for real,” Bitty dismissed.

“Says the guy who is married and owns his own business at fucking twenty five. You know what I was doing at twenty five?”

“Being one of the few people to actually remember Epickegster? Yeah, I kinda got an idea.” It should sting, but Bitty said it with a certain tilt to his head, a hint of a smirk at his lips, so it didn’t really feel like a jab. It occurred to Kent that Bitty was _chirping him._

“Hey, don’t chirp,” He said, but it was ushered out on a laugh. “That was many hours of therapy ago. I’m really glad he’s happy with you.” Bitty’s smile softened, and he put the pasta bowl down to lean across the empty space on the couch and take Kent’s hands in his.

“And I’m glad to hear all that, Kent.” He took a deep breath. “And I’m afraid I owe you an apology. I haven’t given you enough credit for all the hard work and growing up it took for you and Jack to get close again. Of course I knew Jack was different because I saw him change, but I never thought about your side of it, and that was wrong of me.” Bitty squeezed Kent’s hands, and Kent’s breath caught. He’d had fantasies of something like this, of finally clearing the air, of Bitty accepting him into their home and how happy Jack would be that he could have both of them in his life and happy. He’d wanted the moment so bad that he felt his eyes burn when Bitty finished, “Kent Parson, you have worked hard to be a man to be proud of, and if I don’t fault Jack for his past mistakes, I shouldn’t fault you for yours. I just hope you can forgive me.” Kent nodded, blinking hard to keep from crying. Bitty grabbed a box of tissues from the side table and passed it to him. It matched the throw pillows and somehow with that thought he was crying and laughing all at once, letting himself be pulled into a hug that was tight and warm and might’ve reminded Kent of his mom if Bitty wasn’t so muscular.

When he calmed down again, Kent didn’t really want to let go of Bitty. The circles being rubbed on his back and the warm breath on his neck felt so soothing. He found himself thinking that Jack was pretty lucky if this was how he got to fall asleep every night.

The smile Jack gave Bitty when he said, “I apologized to Kent today,” was worth sacrificing a little pride. “I actually feel a lot better now,” he confessed.

“That’s good. I’m really proud of you. I know that wasn’t easy.” Bitty pulled Jack’s big Samwell hoodie tighter around himself, imagining that he could feel his husband hugging him the way he knew he would be if they were together.

“Not easy, but definitely worth it. I think things are gonna be really good between all of us now, I’ve just got a feeling.”

“I can’t wait to get home tomorrow night.”

“Me either. I still miss you every time you have to go.”

“I miss you too.”

“Maybe when you get home, the three of us can rent a movie?

“The three of us.” Jack nodded. “That sounds fantastic.”


End file.
